


Remodeling the bathroom

by DearBalladeer



Category: David Rose/Patrick Brewer - Fandom, Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 13:31:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18283280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearBalladeer/pseuds/DearBalladeer
Summary: A little moment from s04 e02 that fills in some of the building blocks leading up to the need for a sleep over at Stevie's.





	Remodeling the bathroom

David gave himself a long minute before sliding off the table top in the main room and walking awkwardly into the dingy restroom at the back of the store. Gah the lighting in here is terrible and the tile is chipped and how does the overhead fan still not work? Was that his responsibility to call someone? Was that something Patrick could YouTube? Ooh sassy teasing Patrick who was helping the ONLY customer since they opened that morning who just HAD to have bath salts in the middle of their "connection" time had left David officially harder than the towel rack. The cheap big-box store towel rack that didn’t even match the cheap big-box store TP holder. The way Patrick had squared his chin and eye-fucked David while gripping his white-striped thighs and whispering for him to “hang in there” was what put him in this state. How had David missed all those weeks that Patrick had been flirting with him while they folded sweaters and created inventory sheets together? Now he was overt, emboldened by David’s first move a few weeks ago he takes any opportunity to physically show affection. Patrick had been in Schitts Creek for a few months, hadn’t dated anyone in town before David and for who knows how long before that back home so he had the normal amount of pent up urges any young, strong, handsome man would have.  
So handsome. Poetry had never been David’s chosen medium but he could wax rhapsodic about Patrick to anyone who might ask. Not that anyone asked. David would be sitting at the counter of the café and catch sight of Patrick crossing the street to join him for lunch and off he went, poor Twyla. David was all heart eyes and crinkly smile and lifted chin, just so proud for everyone to know that he was currently dating the smart go-getter who was sharp as a tack and bright as a brass button. The take charge entrepreneur with the puppy dog brown eyes and clean mouth who actually managed to press his shirts before leaving the house unlike anyone else in this town.  
Standing here pondering the fact that he had Patrick to kiss first thing in the morning and banter with while they worked all day and work with in between all the kissing and bantering was making it difficult to get himself under control and leave this bathroom. He is fully in support of societal understandings about appropriate behavior in a place of business but he was definitely going to do something incorrect while that lady finished her transaction with Patrick. The boys seldom had enough privacy to finish their own “transactions”. They had carved out random hours here and there to express themselves, mostly in the stock room of the store or their respective vehicles. David appreciated Patrick’s need to explore his newly expressed sexual identity slowly, like any person just starting out but it hadn’t been without frustration for the more experienced man involved. There had been much kissing of every variety- the short sweet pecks, the soulful open-mouthed slow ones, the hungry, car window fogging events that involved tongues and stubble burn….  
He cleared his throat and tried to bring himself back to the present where he was leaning against the bathroom door with the peeling paint and roughly palming the front of his own pants. It certainly wasn't the first time he touched himself to thoughts of Patrick. Three or four dates in Patrick had moved into a new phase that involved wandering hands but no release so thank god for Alexis being a heavy sleeper and long showers. It was like high school on fast forward once the front door was locked. They were at each other that night, madly kissing and groping through sweaters and jeans when rather surprisingly Patricks’ square, strong hands were up under David’s’ silver-grey cashmere, pushing him towards the stock room, sliding around his waist, up his smooth rib cage, out along his shoulder blades. David followed suit and quickly unbuttoned the blue oxford of the day, drawing it up out of his jeans. As soon as Patrick’s pale, smooth belly was against David’s dark, fuzzy one behind the carefully selected linen curtain the sweater was up and off and the shirt was back and down, both in puddles on the floor. Patrick leaned back and ran his finger nails along the most masculine torso he had ever allowed himself to touch and went slack jawed at the rush of endorphins. David felt him change gears, he languidly opened his black eyes and tilted forward so that their foreheads were touching, watching Patrick’s eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones while he explored.  
As David recalls this deeply intimate evening his own hand now follows that same path, up from his waist band to his hard nipples, rolling and flicking just as Patrick had. Only a few moments have passed here in the present, all these beautiful, flirtatious, tantalizing memories are driving David insane. Something about how he must stay quiet, how the object of his fantasies is just a few yards away makes him so hot. He squeezes his eyes closed, listening for any possible interruption as he unbuttons and unzips, reaches into his designer black and grey print boxer briefs, wrapping his broad palm around his swollen dick. As his body focuses his mind wanders over all things Patrick and his natural self-confident swagger. It’s so evident in his physicality- all the direct eye contact, his relaxed posture, his firm hand shake. Patrick Brewer had been one of those kids to whom everything had come easy. A kind heart and a natural talent for numbers and sports and music meant lots of friends and good grades. The exception to that had been girls, he just couldn’t keep a relationship going. But now they understood why and there was nothing in their way so it took a bit of self-control no to ravish one another. The first time they had finished each other off was only a few days ago and the memory was still fresh.  
They had been taking a stroll after dinner on a lovely soft summer night, arm in arm talking and telling stories until they found themselves in the bleachers at the high school. Patrick was saying he had played baseball his whole life, even through college. David offered that when he was in high school, he had played Eugene in Brighton Beach Memoirs who was an avid baseball fan. Patrick had smiled and leaned in for a kiss realizing David was making an adorable attempt at common ground and connection. Finding they could laugh while necking was nice, doing it out in the open air was brazenly confident and thrilling. So, did David want to make out under the stands with this bold ex short stop? Certainly. Was that the wisest choice? Noop. But Patrick was undaunted by the idea of conscientious citizen patrols and random teenagers and grabbed David’s hand, almost running them both across the steal walkway, giggling the whole way down the steps and making a hard right turn to end up sliding on the damp grass into a fairly hidden square of tall weeds where the mower couldn’t quite reach. There they sat, David leaned up against a support beam, Patrick living out a vision he hadn’t realized his entire sporting career, making out with the cutest guy at the school. He grew intense, grasping David by one shoulder and pushing off with the other hand Patrick straddled his lap. Pulses quickened as lips found jaw lines and earlobes and necks. Shirts were discarded and light weight summer sweaters were carefully removed. Patrick began rolling his hips, David clenched his ass and planted his feet to give himself leverage to respond, grinding up into him. Dry humping in their 30s was not as satisfying as it had been when they were teenagers, it was simply not enough and Patrick had waited long enough. His hands left their job of roughly combing David’s’ thick black hair while he sucked and licked and bit Patricks’ nipples all the while gently kneading his ass. They found new employment undoing his own belt and button and fly, grabbing his now impossibly hard cock and using the precum he was leaking as lube to start jerking himself off. David was dizzy watching all of this, having started staring as soon as he heard the soft shoop and jangle of a leather belt being undone. He had felt through layers of both Rick Owens and Levi’s that Patrick had nothing to be embarrassed about in the dick department (maybe that’s where the confidence sprang from) but now that it was out in the July evening air it was truly a thing of beauty.  
Patrick’s cock was pleasing in so many ways, it matched the man it belonged to- substantial and solid and good. David had pressed Patrick to him, nibbled on his collar bone and asked if he could join the fun. Patrick nodded and huffed a yes, David’s hand covered Patrick’s moving steadily up and down. Delicious. The muscle was hard but his skin was so soft, like velvet over oak. When Patrick let go to fumble open David’s white washed jeans that would no doubt now have grass stains to deal with, he realized how much David must really like him to let that happen to his pants. It was confirmed by the state of David’s cock.  
That’s the moment that gets the job done now, here on his own, fisting himself imaging it’s Patrick, thinking wonderfully dirty thoughts about the first time they brought each other off like teenagers. He is currently working into a froth driving steadily toward orgasm. He hears the bell over the front door jangle and hopes it covers his throaty grunts as he finally cums. In time his knees return from their Jell-O like state, his breathing slows, he straightens up. He gently puts himself away, wipes up the little mess, clears his throat, and turns to the stained and ancient porcelain sink to wash his hands. There’s a knock at the door and he opens it to see his lovers’ handsome face. “Sorry she took a minute but she bought the salts and a body milk, too.” Patrick smiles up at David. With a tilt of his head and a crease of his brows he notices David is flushed and slightly out of breath. “You alright, David? “. “Um, definitely” David answers with a shake of his head and a broad smile. He skritches at Patricks’ shoulders “what do you think about getting this bathroom remodeled?”

**Author's Note:**

> First submission, hope you like it! I'm pretty proud of all the references!


End file.
